


Compare & Contrast

by cognomen



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, M/M, PWP, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6017809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ben never <i>asked</i> - he didn't need to bother. He could reach in, measure the direct results of his experimentation by scooping it off the surface of Poe's mind like skimming the surface of a pond with a careful hand, cupping up how the sensations affected him before dropping them back down into the depths and letting some new reaction or emotion bob to the surface in their place. </i>
</p>
<p>Cat's out of the bag that this one's me on TFA-Kink so here's some fisting for Valentine's Day?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compare & Contrast

Ben never _asked_ \- he didn't need to bother. He could reach in, measure the direct results of his experimentation by scooping it off the surface of Poe's mind like skimming the surface of a pond with a careful hand, cupping up how the sensations affected him before dropping them back down into the depths and letting some new reaction or emotion bob to the surface in their place. He churned up the waters of Poe's thoughts when they did these things together -

these things in rushed moments out in the speeder shed, or in the old greenhouse, now just a bright space full of cloth coverings and beds that were no longer needed, or once - just once - in Poe's bed while their parents were reliving their days spent saving the universe -

and Poe thinks that even today, there are few people who probably understand themselves as well as he does in the heat and throes of passion because Ben Solo dragged up every single facet of what sex and pleasure and orgasm meant for Poe and held it up for both of them to examine. Back in those days he had seemed to last _forever_ , too distracted by the kaleidoscope of Ben's fascination sliding its lense over his mind.

That was how he had discovered that the stretch - the absolute brimming fullness that always seemed just out of his reach; the concept of something sliding into him that blotted his mind white and drove the breath out of his chest was like a driving need in the back of his mind, always reaching for _more_. A fast pace, a pushed boundary, a known upper limit. It was a constricting ring that slid over Poe's thoughts when he'd masturbate, or push two fingers inside of himself and reach and think it was a damn shame he couldn't get very far.

The first time that facet had come to light, Ben had slid four fingers into him and scissored them wide open, and then let the burn wash over both their thoughts as Poe panted with it, as he drove his hips up helplessly and groaned, impatient. Too impatient. Too pushy with his own body. There was a verge, a cusp, that rode over Ben's knuckles and no further, even as he curled his whole hand up and pressed orgasm out of Poe without ever touching his cock, just by jamming inelegantly at his prostate until he jerked helplessly over the edge and then came back down, only slow, mouth dry. 

He'd been thirsty after that, not just for water but he had _known_ there was more; that he could take more, accept more. When he could convince Ben to humor him after that, Ben shut his thoughts to it and responded clinically. 

He didn't like the sting, he didn't even like the dangerous, delicious flavor of the edge in Poe's thoughts. Should have been telling - Poe felt the most himself in that moment, when he conquered a new edge - a new diameter, a new depth. He's still reaching for that moment when he's so full he can't think, and he's discovered as they parted ways onto new paths, that he can find his own facets, without Ben's help.

It's why he can try - though there's a nervous edge running just beneath like an electric wire running on either side of his spine, cold lightning shocks telling him _don't ask, don't ask, Finn won't get it, you'll scare the guy_ \- to project confidence when he asks for it. Poe asks with his back ramrod straight, and his dick going half-hard in his pants in a crazy nervous paradox of emotions about wanting something he shouldn't want.

"You wanna try something a little more extreme?"

Finn gives him an appraising look, taking something in about Poe, adding something up in his quick mind. He pushes his tongue over his teeth, then against his lower lip, considering what he knows. Poe can't quite hold back the half-manic smile, the kind he knows _dares_ Finn.

"Depends how extreme," Finn accepts. He's come to accept that he _can_ say no to Poe, that no matter how experienced they were together, no one could guess all the reaches they could find on a person with their clothes off.

"Where's your limit?" Poe asks. He carefully has never mentioned his own.

"How many bodies are we talking?"

"Bodies," Poe says, though the idea appeals. "Just yours and mine, this time. Devices? Maybe one or two more."

This catches Finn's attention. He'll ask, at each step. He _always_ asks - he can't use the force to scoop the rest out of Poe's mind, but he's just as interested, just as _invested_ , though it takes more effort, and that's just as much a turn on as Poe's ever encountered.

Finn gets up, leaving his deck of cards behind. 

Later, when they're naked, when Poe has paused in his forward, rocket-fueled drive to make sure there was more to this than scratching an itch; with Finn it should always be considered, always be individual. Special. Poe likes him that much. 

Also, maybe, he thinks it won't be such a shock when he drags a dildo that could be used to replace a leg on a very sturdy table out from under his bunk.

It doesn't work.

"What is that?" Finn asks, tensing up immediately, eyes big, dark, round.

"Relax," Poe promises gently, though he doesn't put it away. He leans down to kiss Finn again, hoisting the mass of latex up into his lap. "It's for me."

Finn looks at it again, his mouth twisting up to show an incisor, an open-mouthed look of utter disbelief. His head gives a little shake. 

"This is a joke, right? You're trying to freak me out?"

Poe chuckles, tries to make light of the butterflies flapping around in his stomach. He knows how to make those sit still. (It takes a lot of lubricant). He hunkers down a little further over Finn's thighs.

"No," Poe tells him, letting his voice drop low in his chest. "I can take it. It's incredible - just blots all of the thoughts in my mind right out. It fits in deep and perfect, all the way to my limits. You wanna see?"

"Doesn't it hurt?"

Poe shakes his head. It's not entirely a lie - the sting and stretch are part of what he enjoys, part of riding up against the ragged edge of possibility and owning it. "I've had practice."

"You had that inside of you?" Finn reaches for it, as if in disbelief - but there's curiosity in his tone. His hand doesn't close all the way around the silicone shaft. He tests the weight in his hand - Poe's manic smile is reaching over his features again, his cock anxious in his pants just to see Finn's hand curled around the black material. "All the way, or?"

Finn arches his brows at Finn, inviting him to find out. Finn looks at the dildo again, at the girth and mass of it, then back at Poe. Poe swings his leg off over Finn's hips, shedding his pants on the floor, and stretches himself out inviting on the bed.

"I don't just start with this, do I?" Finn asks, wobbling the item in his hand as if it were a weapon he was testing the heft of. Now there was an idea.

"No," Poe says, thinking _yes_ , but the first time he'd better take it easy. He's likely to push himself anyway; he'll already feel it into next week. "We can just start the same-"

_This_ Finn knows, they've done it enough times, and Finn's enjoyment of watching Poe ride against his pressing fingers was what gave him the idea to combine these two endeavors in the first place. He's generous with the lube, and his intent, focused expression when he pushes two fingers into Poe and pushes, when Poe bends his legs up at the knees and lets him deeper with his cock rigid against his own belly touches Poe almost deeper than the physical implied here as Finn stretches him easily into three fingers. 

"I guess I never noticed how easy you took me," Finn says, low, appreciative. Poe groans - that idea is pretty appealing, too, now that they're here. They could put everything aside and Finn could just fuck him. Poe likes that too. "It's supposed to be a little more difficult, right?"

Poe laughs a little - and he _feels_ Finn when he does that, too, feels him trying to stretch a fourth finger in. "It depends."

Finn makes a small 'you-would-know-I-wouldn't' noise that's not exactly dismissive, but suggests he doesn't want to think too much about words, not with Poe's body welcoming his hand to the knuckle in slow, deep thrusts that just make Poe thirsty for more. His brow is furrowed - there's the curiosity.

"I can take more," Poe promises.

Finn's knuckles breach, with just a slightly more firm touch, and Poe gasps, pulls air in a quick, panting breath, heaving it in and out at how _good_ that feels as he pushes his body down further, against Finn, _onto_ him. 

"Yeah?" Finn asks him.

Poe bites his lip, breathes out a low groan and nods, dizzy-slow. "Yeah."

"Say when you want the toy," Finn tells him, flexing his fingers inside and that's _incredible_. _Forget the toy_.

Poe has to gather the words from the furthest corners of his mind. "You could try a little deeper. I can take it."

Finn, to his surprise, is really on board with that, with reaching right up into him in slow surges, easing past palm-to-fist-to-wrist. "Can you take more?"

Poe nods, a stunted motion, past words. He groans, practically sobs, getting his hands at Finn's elbow in a tight grip that urges him, that reassures him past any sounds that might be confusing because there's no real sound for the depth of this pleasure, nothing but sobbing breaths and his whole body in a loose, easy line as each motion seems to surge Finn a little deeper, press Poe a little more open, with his cock standing up straight from his body and hard as hell. 

Finn doesn't even have to thrust, just move his fingers a little inside, beckoning, and Poe's over the edge so fast, body so full there's absolutely nowhere for his muscles to contract, and the release just opens him out and pours out of him, jets onto his own belly and thighs and - he swears to god he feels some hit his neck, his cheek - leaves him wrung out. Scoured clean. Panting and distant.

"Shit," Finn says, sounding spellbound. "I've never seen that before."

Poe tries to make his eyes focus, tries to remember the rest of what makes words aside from vowel sounds and 'yeah'. 

Finn leans closer, easing his hand out of Poe in small, careful increments. "Can I, uh..."

He hesitates. Poe loops his arms - they feel uncoordinated and detached in the buzzing, electric sea of pleasure coursing through his body. 

"Can I fuck you now?" Finn asks sheepishly. "I bet that feels amazing."

Poe hasn't heard a better idea in a long time.


End file.
